Personal Boundaries
by Dyna Dee
Summary: Agent Langston has transferred to the Sanq office for a new job. During orientation he learns just what's ahead of him. M/M relationships.


Personal Boundaries

Dyna Dee

Agent Marcus Langston, transferring from Preventer's London division, finished signing his name with a flourish on the form in front of him then put the pen down. Done. Finally. He'd spent the last two hours in orientation for his new position at Preventer's Headquarters, Sanq Division. Smiling with relief at the last bit of paperwork Agent Scott had given him, he glanced up at the woman behind the desk.

She smiled in return as she took the last sheet and checked it over, as she had done with countless other forms he'd been required to sign, making sure he'd filled in all the designated places. Then sitting back in her chair she regarded him with a friendly smile. "Congratulations, Agent Langston. You are now a member of the highest ranking division in this organization."

"Thank you," he answered, unable to keep the smile from his face. This had been his goal for three years, just after the last war when he'd signed on. And like most of his fellow agents in London, he'd devoured every word and account that filtered down though the ranks regarding the five agents recruited by Director Une herself. At the unbelievable age of seventeen, the former gundam pilots had been the darlings and heroes of the now famous peace keeping organization. It was rumored the five were routinely given the most dangerous assignments and had a near perfect record of solving their cases. Of course, they hadn't always come out unscathed, but that only made them appear even larger than life to those tracking their careers. And now here he was, in Sanq, assigned as a part of the top agents' support team. He couldn't wait to get this orientation process over and done with so he could get to work.

Agent Scott gathered up the large stack of forms and slipped them into a file folder before bending to place them in her desk drawer. Her preoccupation gave him a moment to assess her. She appeared to be about his age; 30 years old, and when she'd greeted him at the door to the H.R. department, he'd noted her American accent and the fact that she was as tall as he, just shy of 6 feet. Her thick red hair was what initially caught his attention as it fell straight to her shoulders. But it was her eyes, a vivid green and sparkling with intelligence, that he thought most attractive. Regardless of her appearance, he appreciated the capable and professional attitude she presented during the interview.

"Now that we have the paperwork out of the way," said Agent Scott continued as she straightened, "I'll give you a tour of the floor where you'll be spending many of your waking hours. As you were informed during the interview process, you'll be spending the first year proving your worth as a support to our elite team of agents. Your performance during that time will determine whether or not you'll move into field work with them." She leaned forward just slightly to emphasize her next statement. "Earning the trust of this team will be the deciding factor. The former gundam pilots as well as Agents Peacecraft, Noin and Poe made many enemies both during the wars and as agents for this organization. There are groups as well as individuals who would like nothing more than to take any one of them down, whatever the cost. As you can imagine, the elite team is suspicious of outsiders and they don't trust easily."

"I understand," he replied, and he did. Having studied the careers of this elite group in preparation for this job, he'd discovered that by working as a whole, each agent bringing his own particular talents and strengths to the mission, had helped them achieve not only their goal, but also their unmatched level of success. Yet their success also came by having a top level support team behind them, ready to assist, supply, follow orders, and retract. Unfortunately, even the most prized team can have a weakness that could bring it down. One year ago, a support team member turned against the elite team by selling information regarding their assignment to former OZ soldiers who were eager to avenge the deaths of comrades during the two wars. As a result, three of the elite team had been seriously injured and Chang had nearly died. It was Winner who systematically tracked down the leak in their department, and Maxwell who'd eliminated the informant. His actions, not sanctioned beforehand by Director Une, cost Agent Maxwell an official reprimand and a two-month suspension. Some members of the Preventers thought Maxwell's actions were proof that the five former gundam pilots were out-of-control agents. But the majority had quietly lauded Maxwell's actions. Preventers had an unspoken rule: to watch the backs of their fellow agents, and bring down hell and damnation to any who caused your fellow agent harm. Maxwell had obviously taken that belief seriously.

"Will I be meeting the elite team today?"

The redhead gave him an understanding smile. "Agent Maxwell's been testifying at a trial in Italy for the past week, but I've heard he's to return some time today. We'll meet with the others after I give you the tour."

'The tour' consisted of her leading him through the cafeteria, the supply room, then a trip to the lower levels were the weapon's room was located. He was introduced to Sargent Dauer, a large, intimidating man with arms and legs larger than two of his own. The man took a good long look at him before running though the procedures he would need to follow when checking out the any equipment requisitioned by the "boy's upstairs."

"We have new weapons developed on a regular basis. The kid comes down here regularly with some new hair-brained ideas that actually work."

Langston knew that Dauer's reference to "the kid" was a nickname for agent Maxwell. From what he'd read, that name had followed the Deathscythe pilot from before the war, a nickname the Sweepers had called him.

"He develops weapons?"

"He's as much a genius with weaponry as Yuy is with computers." A fact that was well known within their organization.

He would liked to have spoken longer to the man, to glean as much inside information as he could about his new co-workers, but Agent Scott glanced down at her watch and said they needed to keep moving.

They went to the communications room next, where he leaned a bit more about agent Trowa Barton, and then the IT department in which he was introduced to the staff and shown a desk that was reserved for the revered Agent Yuy, whenever a case called for his computer skills. It was clear to Langston that the highly trained staff looked upon Agent Yuy as an IT god.

Agent Scott then led him to the gymnasium and assigned him a locker. As they rode the elevator up to the eleventh floor he felt his excitement growing; he was about to meet his heroes. "Because of their training," Agent Scott continued, "it's important to remember that the five former gundam pilots have personal space issues. Always knock on a door or doorframe before you enter a room." A sly smirk touched the corners of the woman's mouth just then. "There have been occasions when someone forgot that rule and found the end of a gun touching the middle of their forehead."

"Always knock," he repeated with a nod of his head.

"Never come up to them from behind without making your presence known."

That made sense. The five were known to act first and ask questions later, or apologize, if that was the case. "Understood."

"You'll be in charge of the supplies for the team's floor, and for anything they request." she continued as the elevator car stopped and the doors slowly slid open. "You'll accept delivery downstairs at the loading dock, and that's where you will carefully inspect each package received, making sure that nothing other than the supplies requisitioned are brought up to this floor." When he raised a questioning eyebrow, she added, "You'll be looking for bombs or any kind of gas or incendiary devices. All the equipment, including an Xray machine, is already in place."

"You've had this type of problem before?" he asked, his previous excitement was now shifting to nervousness at meeting the elite group and about the hazards of his new job.

"Oh yes," she acknowledged. "So your vigilance in checking every single item delivered by our supply vender might very well save the lives of your team or a member of it."

He made another mental note to check every damn box of pens, paper clips or anything else the elites might need.

The hallway they walked down was brightly lit and deserted. "Where is everyone?"

Agent Scott shrugged. "This is the buffer floor between the elite team's offices and the rest of the agency. Only those with the proper authorization can venture onto the next level. This floor is also used by the support the team. You'll find no offices here, but mainly secured storage rooms, a medical room, supplies and a lounge, equipped with a television and small kitchen. Any member of the elite or support team can relax safely here, sleep, or enjoy a meal in the lounge. And, of course, there's a private workout room which is off limits to everyone other than the elite team."

They stopped in front of a door, where a blue placard to its right indicated they'd arrived at the supply room. Taking a badge out of her pocket, Agent Scott swiped it across a security beam. The light turned green and, following a soft snick, the lock disengaged. The HR specialist opened the door while looking over her shoulder, saying, "A list of supplies that are needed is kept in the white folder, here next to the door..."

She abruptly halted, startled by the pole axed look on Langston face.

"What the hell!" an enraged male voice yelled from inside the supply room. Agent Scott's head spun around to respond to whomever had spoken. "Oh, pardon me," she gasped. "Sorry. So sorry to disturb you. We'll just..." She turned back to Langston whose face bore the same shade of red as hers and pushed him none too gently out of the doorway and back into the hall. The door slammed firmly shut behind them.

After gathering his wits, Langston asked in a hushed voice, "Was that...?"

"Agents Yuy and Maxwell," Agent Scott confirmed with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth. She was obviously as mortified by the scene they'd stumbled on as he was.

Casting her a skeptical look, he said, "I thought you said they had personal space issues."

In an attempt to compose herself, Scott fussed with straightening the sleeves of her blouse and then checked each of the buttons down the front. She then said, "With other people, yes, the five do have personal space issues. But as you can see, it definitely not a problem with each other."

"I didn't know they were gay." Langston whispered aside to her, shocked by the scene in the supply room. Agent Maxwell, one of the people he most respected, had appeared disheveled, his uniform shirt open down the front and half off his shoulder. He had also been lip-locked with non other than Agent Yuy, whose hand had been buried in the long-haired man's pants. Before he could react to the startling scene, Yuy had the biggest hand gun he'd ever seen in his life pointed at him. He swallowed nervously, feeling like he's literally just dodged a bullet.

"They are gay," Scott said, straightening her shoulders and taking a calming breath. "And that information is not to be bandied about. Do you have a problem working with gay men?" She studied his face most carefully, looking for any level of discomfort.

"No, not as long as they don't try coming onto me," Langston stated, though truth be told, he felt very uncomfortable having walked into a room where two men were engaging in a very unprofessional manner.

"Good, because Winner and Barton are also gay, though they have proven to be more discrete about their relationship than those two are." A nod of her head towards the door indicated she meant the two in the supply room. He wondered if scenes, such as they one they'd interrupted moments ago, was a regular occurrence.

"Let this stand as an example for knocking on doors, on this floor and the one above us. Agent Maxwell has been gone for a week and has obviously just returned. I think I overheard another support agent state they generally stay clear of those two, or at least know where they're going when they suddenly disappear."

"But... Preventer's manual clearly states that fraternizing at the office is forbidden?" Langston was stunned by the blatant breach of the rules.

Agent Scott, her cheeks now a faint shade of pink, down from the more vivid color they'd been a minute ago, looked at the newest member of the elite squad. "You have to remember, Langston, that we recruited the gundam pilots when they were barely 17 years old, right after the second war, where they almost single handedly brought an end to Deikum Barton's plans to take over the world. Concessions were made and a blind eye turned in order to sign them."

The man frowned. "Upon becoming a Preventer I signed a form stating that I agreed to obey the rules, and what's going on in there is certainly not conforming with that agreement."

"As I said, concessions have been made in order to sign and keep the gundam pilots in our organization, and they have not let us down. They may stretch and sometimes break the rules, but they can be counted on to get things done, and that is why you signed a confidentiality about the elite team and what goes on in these upper floors, and that includes what you just saw in there as well as this conversation."

"I understand," Langston stated firmly. Not one word of what he'd seen would be uttered, not to his wife, mother or his priest at church. He knew how to keep his mouth shut, which he just realized was probably why he's been accepted to this post.

"Anything else I should know or shouldn't do?" he asked.

Agent Scott thought for a moment and said, "Never touch Maxwell's hair or the man himself if Yuy is around. He's very possessive."

"Not a problem," he replied, and silently wondered what in the world had he gotten himself into.

"Oh, and never touch Yuy's computer, Barton's files, Winner's posted schedules nor Chang's sword, which he displays in his office. Follow orders and you'll do fine."

"May I ask one more question?" She nodded her head and waited for him to go on. "How long did the last assistant last?"

Agent Scott's smile dimmed considerably as she answered, "Three days, I'm afraid. But that's because he forgot a basic rule and approached Agent Chang from behind without remembering to make a sound. He wound up flat on his back with a concussion. He'll be fine after the ringing in his ears stops."

"Do my medical benefits begin immediately," he asked nervously.

The woman smiled at him. "For your position, you bet!"

The End

Author's note: I found this in my files and thought I would post it. Sorry it's not been checked over and that I've been away so long, but it's been a rough year. I was diagnosed last year with pancreatic cancer, had surgery followed by 6 months of chemo. My time, as you can imagine, has become precious, too precious to sit at my laptop and type stories. Thank you for your support and readership over the years. It's been a lot of fun and I've made some wonderful friends.


End file.
